


Revenge

by TinyInsignificantHumans



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gore, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3436559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyInsignificantHumans/pseuds/TinyInsignificantHumans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Draco is found bleeding and half conscious in the ministry, he unknowingly gains the help of an unlikely trio in a bid to save himself and his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places used in this story.
> 
> This idea just sort of hit me one day and I wanted to see where I could take it. Feedback is always welcome! Thank you and I hope you enjoy it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Gore

He could feel the burning in his lungs and his legs were aching. He could see his father racing in front of him slightly, but he wasn't expecting the curse that struck him in the chest, winding him as it threw him back into the trees. He dropped at the base of the tree, struggling to catch his breath. He pushed up to his feet, spotting his father turn back to him when he realised that he'd fallen behind him. He was about to tell his father to just continue, that he would catch up, when he heard a male's voice to his right.

“Crucio”

The curse hit him in the side and he screamed, the agony of it bringing him to his knees. He didn't know how long the pain lasted, it could have been seconds or hours. All he could focus on was the searing, stabbing pain that shot through him and caused white specks to float behind his eyes.

Draco felt a hand pull him to his feet and he groaned in pain as the curse wore off and his gaze focused on his father. He was dragged behind his father as Lucius pulled them towards the caves up ahead. They ran into them, taking sharp turns to try and lose their pursuers, hoping to get lost in the darkness long enough to apparate to safety.

Draco stopped when a curse hit his father in the chest, raising his wand and firing a wordless stupefy at the man before running to his father's side. Draco dropped to his knees by Lucius's side, wide eyed at the blood that was pouring from the man's chest. He raised his wand and mumbled a healing charm that only successfully slowed the bleeding. He was about to try another spell when Lucius gripped his wrist and stole his attention.

“D-Draco-” Lucius gasped as his son looked up and met his gaze. He saw his son flinch at how weak and strained his voice sounded. Lucius knew then that he would die there, but he wouldn't allow them to claim his son's life also. “You need to leave, Draco.” Lucius said, tightening his hold on the Malfoy heir's wrist as Draco shook his head. “You must leave!”

Draco shook his head fiercely. “Stop it! Get up, father. We'll leave together.”

“Draco! Stop. You listen to me, boy!” Lucius snapped, but his voice was weak and Draco felt the tears sting his eyes as he bit the inside of his cheek. “You need to go. Leave me here. You need a healer, you need to go get help. I can't leave here and you know that, Draco.” Lucius paused, coughing and Draco just stared at the blood that flecked his father's lips. He could hear manic laughter ringing off against the walls of the cave. “Go get your mother, Draco. You need to make sure that your mother is safe, you must promise me that you will protect her!”

“Stop it!” Draco shouted at his father, his anger rising to push his fear back. “Shut up! You can't just fucking give up, father. You need to get up and keep fighting!” Draco shouted at Lucius, letting his fist connect with the ground beneath him, splashing into the rapidly forming pool of blood.

“Draco!”

“No!” Draco shouted it, knowing that he should keep his voice down. “Just get the fuck up. Stop all this bullshit. I don't need to protect her. Mum is safe right now. Its us that are fucked at the moment, so you need to get up and we need to get the hell out of here. So you can then fucking protect mum! She's your wife, you're meant to be keeping us safe so just shut the hell up. I will not leave you!”

“I'm dying, Draco!” Lucius shouted back at his, stopping the younger blonde's rant.

Draco flinched at the panic in his father's voice. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes but he refused to let them go. He shook his head again, denying his father's words and their implications. He couldn't leave him here. He couldn't leave his father here for these bastards to kill. Draco knew, deep down, that his father was correct. Lucius wouldn't leave this cavern alive, but he just couldn't accept that. He was only twenty two and he could not accept that his father was going to die here at his knees. Denial was a powerful thing, and right now it was abandoning all of Draco's common sense and knowledge and replacing it with rejection. It didn't matter that there was a massive tear in his father's abdomen or that the blood was pouring from him rather than the slow seeping of Draco's own wounds, Draco wouldn't accept that his father was dying.

“Stop...”

“Draco!” Lucius scolded, the footsteps and mocking laughter louder now and Draco looked up as Greyback rounded the corner with a smug grin. “Leave!” Lucius shouted it, and something in his father's tone sliced through Draco. The blonde stood and shot a deathly cold glare at the werewolf before he turned on his heel and bolted. Draco only managed to escape the cave before he heard his father's agonised scream and he skidded to a halt, tears slipping past all his defences and soaking his cheeks. Draco doubled over when he suddenly tasted bile, gagging on the scent of blood that was swirling around his head. He vomited his stomach contents up, shaking as he placed his palms against the cave wall. His father's screaming hadn't stopped and Draco about turned to go back and try and fight Greyback away from his father when he heard an echoing snap that echoed off the cave's walls and his father's screaming stopped without any warning.

Dread settled in his stomach and Draco trembled harder, looking up and glancing back the way he'd came, just as a hex smacked into his left side, scorching his skin. Draco snarled, threatened and trapped as he was, he had no choice. His vision blurred and Draco knew that he was dangerously close to losing consciousness. When a growl, he apparated away, choking back the bile burning his throat as the guilt of leaving his father made his chest ache.

.:.:.:.

Since the war, Hermione had worked at the ministry within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and while she didn't see quite as much as her friends as she used to, Hermione loved her job. She worked within the Werewolf Capture Unit, and while they one weren't funded well, Hermione was slowly changing that and making it known how important their work really was. She knew that not all werewolves were bad. Lupin had struggled every full moon to resist his change and did everything in his power to keep those around him save, but not all werewolves were like Lupin had been. Harry and Ron both worked for the ministry too, both were working within the Auror Department, and she was so proud of them and of how well they were both doing.

Sighing, Hermione rubbed at her eyes and paused, her concentration slipping before turning her attention back to the files in front of her. There had been a number of reports regarding werewolf attacks and a string of missing people. Some of the victims were found killed and their corpses carelessly dumped within wooded areas, but others had just vanished – the only common aspect with the missing victims were that they all disappeared during a full moon. She just couldn't figure out how to track all these missing people and she'd spent months getting these reports. Six months ago, she'd read that Fenrir Greyback had been broken out of Azkaban and that was what was concerning her the most.

Years ago, Greyback had attempted to create a werewolf army, and had succeeded by a certain extent, but what if he had been broken out to recommence his former plans? Sighing for the fourth time that hour, Hermione rubbed her eyes again and decided to finish early. She would go home and get some rest and hopefully something would come to her while she tired to relax. What she really needed was a large glass of wine and a long bubble bath to soothe aching muscles.

.:.:.:.

Draco stumbled as he apparated into the ministry by the Floo network, losing his footing and dropping to his knees with a pained moan. He caught himself on his hands as his lungs burned from running and he clutched at his ribs, flinching at the pain that shot through him and coughed, his breathing heavy. He moved his hand and stared at the sticky deep red that stained his skin and soaked into his shirt turning it into a deep burgundy. The metallic scent clung to him and he could still smell the moss from the forest he'd just left, the damp smell stuck in his nostrils and he gagged, doubling over.

Draco stared at the floor, knowing that he had to get up. He had to get the Aurors, healers, anyone that could help him, but he couldn't force his legs to obey his commands and his thoughts flicked back to the scene that he'd left in the forest. Draco closed his eyes, fighting back the sight of all the blood and the manic gleam in his attackers' eyes. The image of his father's body dropping haunted him, and he groaned as the image of Lucius choking on his own blood flashed in his mind.

He punched the ground hard and then again, watching as his fist smeared blood on the tiles. He had no idea if the blood was his or his father's and Draco slammed his fist into the ground once more for good measure, splitting his knuckles. Draco stared at the ground, his anger swarming his thoughts. How could he have just left? What the hell had he been thinking? He'd just fucking abandoned his father, leaving him to the mercy of those bastards. He should have dragged his father from there kicking and screaming if he had to, but he'd fled like a bloody dog with his tail between his legs. Draco ran a blood soaked hand through his sweat dampened hair and let out a frustrated shout, slamming his hand into the ground again, cracking the tile and hearing a snap that caused pain to shoot through his hand as his knuckles broke.

Draco wasn't aware of what time it was, but the ministry was quiet, he knew that much. He was unaware of the footsteps that headed his way. He wasn't aware that he was trembling and that the sweat that soaked his skin was evaporating now, chilling him to his core as he struggled with his horror. His father had been swimming in his own blood, three horrifically death gashes down across his chest. Lucius had told him to run, to flee to get help and to leave him. Draco had hesitated until his father had screamed it at him, and he'd apparated then, already tasting the bile that stung the back of his throat.

“Malfoy?” A timid voice called his name and broke through the shock that was settling in his mind. He looked up and hesitated, taking longer that he was proud of to realise who the woman was that knelt in front of him. A head of dark curls and concerned brown eyes met his grey ones and Draco's mind suddenly caught up. Hermione was friends with Potter, and Draco knew that Potter was an Auror. He had to help. Draco grabbed the woman's shoulders frantically. “You need to help me!” He snapped, panicked. In his current state he almost missed her concerned look, and when he did catch it, he couldn't understand the witch's concern. “Where's Potter? I need an Auror! Hurry, dammit, where the hell is he?”

“Malfoy, slow down. Where are you hurt?” Hermione said, trailing her gaze over him. He was covered in blood and his already pale skin was a sickly grey. He looked awful and his eyes were wide and frightened and the fact that something had scared him so much worried Hermione. Draco Malfoy had always had the infamous Malfoy stoicism and to see him so unhinged was concerning. She'd only known of him being like this once before in sixth year when Harry had found him having a breakdown in the prefect's bathroom.

“Stop! I don't have time. Granger you have to get the Aurors to the Clearwell Caves in Gloucestershire. They're near the Forest of...”

“Malfoy. Stop, I know where they are. Just stop for a moment and tell me what happened? Where are you hurt? You need a healer.” Hermione said, prying his blood-covered hands from her shoulders, frowning at how much he was trembling. His skin was cold and clammy beneath the blood and his eyes looked distant when he met her gaze. Hermione glanced up when she heard footsteps and saw Harry and Ron heading her away.

“'Mione?” Ron called, frowning as he took in the scene of a blood covered Malfoy on his knees in front of his best friend, shaking and clearly terrified. “What's happened?” He asked her as he and Harry both stopped by their friend's side. Before Hermione could really answer her friend, Draco collapsed against her and she yelped in surprise as she caught him, cradling him in her arms and watching him as he lay in her lap, shaking. She stared at him, confused and concerned.

“Draco?” She questioned hesitantly, but she could see that he was drifting out of consciousness.

“Granger, please...” Draco groaned, his breathing laboured and clearly pained. “My dad... we were attacked...” He mumbled, stating the obvious by the blood that still seeped from his wounds and soaked his pale, clammy skin. “...Werewolves.”

Hermione only just caught Draco's whispered last word before the darkness claimed him, but she had heard him and she knew that her friends had heard as well. “I need to get him to St Mungo's!” She said, meeting their gazes. “Go get the other Aurors and head to the Clearwell Caves by the Forest of Dean. I'll get some mediwitches and meet you there. Be careful, we're not entirely sure what happened, but you both know that Malfoy doesn't get that frightened!” She told her friends before apparating to St Mungo's.

She stayed on the ground with Draco in her lap, and called for help. She brushed blonde locks from Draco's face and frowned, glancing down at him. His chest was a mess, she could see it now that he wasn't doubled over. His white-turned-rust shirt was torn and stained and she could see the deep seeping wounds on his chest. He'd been hexed, but why?

The mediwitches came running and tore int her thoughts as they bundled Draco onto a stretcher and rushed him off. She spoke quietly to one of them, explaining all she knew and letting them know that she needed a couple of them to accompany her to find Lucius Malfoy. They hadn't hesitated in accepting and Hermione was soon standing by her two best friends and a handful of Aurors by the entrance of the caves. She didn't know where to start looking for Lucius, but they had to find the Malfoy patriarch.

Hermione wasn't sure what she was expecting, but when their small group followed the splashes of blood to a smaller cave the scene that lay before him made her clamp a hand over her mouth to force back the scream that was building up in the back of her throat. The air was thick with dark magic and it felt like it was smothering her, but that was the least troublesome sight. There was a pool of blood lying stagnant close to Harry's feet. About a meter from said pool of blood was Lucius' body, but want made Hermione stare wide-eyed and feeling sick, wasn't the fact that Lucius' body was shredded, cuts in his chest so deep that she could see bone. No, what affected her so much was that at the opposite end of the small cave, magically pinned to the wall of the cavern, was Lucius' head.

She couldn't pull her gaze away from the sight and the smell of blood was filling her senses. A part of her, deep beneath her horror was praying that Draco had left before his father had suffered like this. She couldn't begin to imagine how her childhood enemy would have coped if he'd seen this. Hermione turned her gaze away, her hand still covering her mouth and her eyes watering. “How barbaric.” She mumbled, a single tear falling from her lashes as she blinked. “Poor Malfoy. Who would do this?”

Ron was at her side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, but he offered her no words. There was nothing that anyone could say to make this okay. Since the war, the Malfoys' had tried to change their views, and while Hermione knew that Lucius still looked down on Muggle-born and Half-bloods with contempt, she would never wish for anything close to this. This is was vile and she couldn't stand it. The thought that someone would have to break this news to Narcissa and her son made Hermione shiver.

“Come on, Hermione, lets get out of here. We'll let the others deal with this one.” Ron was saying to her softly as Harry joined them. He looked grim and she couldn't blame him. He was aiming to become the head of the Auror's Office, and had would no doubt he had been given the task of letting the Malfoys know what had happened to Lucius. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Ron's right. You should go and get some rest. I'll inform Malfoy and his mum about this.” Harry said softly but Hermione shook her head, making him frown at her.

“I'll come with you. Draco said that werewolves were involved. I need more information about this. I need to catch those that done this.” She said, flicking her gaze back to the headless body lying on the cave floor before closing her eyes. She wasn't looking forward to Draco's reaction to this. It had unnerved her how he'd been so shaken, so terrified, in the ministry. He had collapsed against her and it had scared Hermione, but she didn't want to witness his reaction to this, and she knew Narcissa's would be just as bad. There was no denying that the woman adored her late husband. She didn't envy Harry's task of telling them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed it and I didn't quite intend to have Lucius' death quite so gory – that just kind of happened, but I rather like how it turned out. Poor Draco! 
> 
> Let me know what you think! And thank you for reading. And I want to give a massive thanks to my best friend, Kim, for reading this over first and letting me know what she thought (as she's a total Harry Potter expert and I'm not)!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Mentions of slight gore.

Draco woke screaming. He didn't know where he was but the panic cloaked him and he only stopped screaming when warm hands cupped his jaw, forcing him to meet his mother's gaze as she pulled him to her chest, embracing him. He shut his eyes, clinging to his mother's arm as he all but cowered into her. He knew he was shaking, the fear covering him like a second skin. Slowly the fear was pushed back by his pain. His body ached, still recovering despite his obvious magical medical treatment. Reality chased away his nightmares, but the reality was just as bad as the dreams that were haunting him.

Narcissa pulled away from her son when he seemed to calm slightly. She had received a Floo call from the hospital and had raced to St Mungo's instantly. The mediwitches caring for her son had explained that Hermione Granger had brought him in, and had told them that he'd showed up at the ministry badly injured and terrified, almost incoherent. Narcissa hadn't moved from her son's side since, but she knew that Draco had been with his father, and the dread and premature sorrow fought for position in her mind during the hours that kept her son from consciousness. What had happened to her boys? Where was Lucius?

Narcissa looked up at the knock on the door and frowned when she recognised Harry Potter and Hermione Granger as they entered the room. She looked down at her son, but Draco hadn't even looked up when they entered. His eyes moved from the crisp white sheets when Harry cleared his throat and he shot up, glaring dangers at the couple that stood by the door. Hermione met his gaze, flashing him a concerned look that died when she met his hard eyes. There was none of his previous terrified panic, now all she could see was bitter hatred and it caused her to flinch.

“Mrs Malfoy,” Harry said, nodding his head at Narcissa, before turning to Draco. “Draco.” Harry paused then, ignoring Draco's glare. He didn't know how to say this, how could he tell them?

“Mr Potter.” Narcissa said, forcing her voice to remain steady. “Where's my husband?” She asked, but she didn't really need to. The tortured look that they both wore was enough to confirm her fears. Lucius was gone.

“I'm sorry, but he's dead.” Harry said softly, keeping eye contact with Narcissa as she nodded once. Harry then turned his attention to Draco, whose gaze had fell to bed he was in again. “I know that this is all still a bit fresh, but it would benefit the case greatly if you could give us a statement of you attacked you, Draco."

Draco lifted his gaze again. Grief and anger warring for priority in his mind, and as he met the Auror's eyes, the blonde gave in to the familiar rage. “What case?” He snarled, his hands balled into fists, his nails leaving crescent dents in his palms.

“Hermione works with the Werewolf Capture Unit. When she found you, you mentioned that you and your father were attacked by werewolves. If you could tell us more about them, it would help us to capture them and punish them for their crime.” Harry said calmly, but Hermione couldn't make eye contact with anyone in the room. She didn't want to meet Narcissa's gaze, that was tortured and broken, and she couldn't bare the intensity of Draco's fury.

Draco stood from the bed, fixing Potter with a hard scowl. “Get out!” Draco snapped, his anger only fuelled by Harry's confused look and Hermione's timid lowered gaze. “Get the fuck out! Both of you! I'm not telling you a fucking thing. You should have got there sooner!” He shouted at him. His mother placed a hand on his shoulder, probably hoping to calm him down but he shrugged it off and moved away from her. “He wasn't dead when I left. You call yourself a fucking Auror, Potter, but you can't even save one man! And you, Granger,” Draco snarled, and Hermione flinched at the way he hissed her name, raising her eyes to meet his rage. “Werewolf Capture Unit. That's a fucking laugh! What the hell do you spend your time doing then? Because that was fucking horde!”

“Draco.” Narcissa said softly, understanding her son's anger but still disapproving of it.

“Shut up!” Draco snapped over his shoulder, stalking toward Hermione until she was backed up against the wall and he was towering over her. He ignored his mother's outraged gasp and the point of Potter's wand that pressed against his neck. “If you did you fucking job right then we wouldn't have been attacked!”

“Malfoy...” Hermione murmured softly, almost timid. _Merlin,_ she couldn't begin to imagine his pain. His fist slammed into the wall by her head, making her jump as she heard the plaster of the wall shatter. She looked up at him, both angry and frightened.

“Draco!” His mother's voice was outraged, but Draco ignored it.

“Don't you fucking dare say my name!” Draco snarled at Hermione, his voice dangerously low. “Brightest witch of our age! What a fucking joke. You're a waste of space, you've always been a waste of space.” His voice was dripping with all his old hatred and he leant in to her, causing her to shrink back but she was pinned and she couldn't help the shudder that shook her as his breath tickled her neck when his lips were at her ear. “You've always been a useless, filthy bitch. Mudblood.” He growled it, letting a cruel smirk grace his lips as she shoved him back at step. He could see that he'd upset her. Good.

Draco turned then and met Potter's enraged look, but Draco didn't give the Auror a chance to hex him before he lashed out, punching his old enemy in the face before storming out for the room, ignoring his mother's angry shouting. He slammed the door behind him and he didn't hesitate before he bolted down the corridor. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to be alone.

.:.:.:.

A tense silence blanketed the room as the door slammed and it felt like forever before anyone spoke. Hermione stared at the opposite wall, forcing her hurt reaction to stay at bay until she was alone. It wasn't the first time that Malfoy had insulted her, but somehow his words had really stung this time round. Draco had sounded as though he not only hated her, but that he solely held her responsible for his father's death, and Hermione was a little shocked to realise that she did feel guilt about it. It was Narcissa that broke the silence first.

“I apologise...” She started, sighing. “Draco was completely out of line there. I will make him apologise for his actions.”

“There's no need, Mrs Malfoy.” Hermione said softly, looking up at the older woman and offering her a sad smile. “We just delivered some pretty devastating news, and grief can make people react harshly. He may have been out of line, but his reaction was entirely understandable, so there's no need for you or Draco to apologise.” Hermione said, pausing for a moment. “I am so sorry for your loss. It was clear that Lucius meant a lot to you both.

Narcissa offered the girl a sad smile and nodded. “Yes. Yes, he did.” She said softly, sighing.

“If you learn anything, or if Draco changes his mind, please don't hesitate to contact Hermione or any of the Aurors. Even the slightest details about the perpetrator could help us catch them.” Harry said, waiting for Narcissa to acknowledge his sentiment before leading Hermione from the room. Harry watched as his friend scrubbed a hand over her eyes before he let out a sigh and took her hand.

“You didn't have to come Hermione. Malfoy's always been a tosser, don't let him get to you.” Harry said, offering his friend a small smile. “You know that what he said is all rubbish. You're a brilliant witch, Hermione, don't let that prat tell you otherwise. He's just blaming you because its easier than dealing with the fact that he left his father."

“He acted as though he couldn't stand to look at me. As if he blames me entirely for what happened to Lucius, Harry!” Hermione pointed out, sighing and pushing her hands into her pockets. “And I'm not sure that he's wrong as such."

Harry stopped then, looking at Hermione with a small frown. He took her hand and sighed, shaking his head. “Stop that, 'Mione. This is not your fault. You've been working yourself into the ground to try and find these werewolves, but its not your fault that they've evaded you.” Harry said, offering Hermione a smile that she returned unconvincingly. “Now, I want you to go home and get some sleep, and forget about what Malfoy has said to you, okay?” Harry told her before he pulled her closer for a hug.

She relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment. She didn't want to let Draco's words get under her skin, and Harry was right. She had been working herself to death on the cases that landed on her desk every month. She didn't know where to start with finding the werewolves and she'd been hoping that Draco would talk to them, but she should have known better than to assume anything about the blonde.

Pulling away from her best friend, Hermione sighed again. “You're right Harry. I just need to relax for a night. Owl me with any information though, yeah?” She asked, smiling when her friend agreed. She would head home and have that bath and glass of wine she'd promised herself. Hell, she'd have the bottle.

.:.:.:.

Draco slammed the door shut, muttering a locking charm as he paced the floor. He'd apparated out of the hospital, choosing to return to the manor. He couldn't cope with being near people at that moment. His room was dark, but he could see the sky beginning to brighten. Draco moved to the French doors that led to the balcony from his bedroom, pushing them open and taking in lungfuls of the night air. He hated this. His father was dead and it was entirely his fault. He'd just ran. He hadn't even put up a fight.

Draco turned back into his room, stripping off the hospital gown that he was still wearing and tossing it to the ground. He then pulled on a pair of loose pyjama bottoms, but didn't bother with a shirt. His skin felt too hot and the night air was almost relaxing. He moved back to the balcony, his hands curling around the railing as he stared up into the early morning sky. He felt sick and lost and the anger was pushing his grief back for the moment. He knew it wouldn't last. His anger was fuelling him for the moment, but he'd wear himself out, he could already feel his energy seeping out of him, and he knew that when it left completely the grief would seize him and he didn't know if he could cope with its icy grip around his heart.

Clenching his eyes closed, Draco bowed his head, letting out a fierce snarl. His father had once trusted those bastards. Greyback had worked along side them once and now his father was dead and it was no doubt all because of him. Kicking the railing in frustration, Draco dragged a hand over his face and turned his gaze back to the grounds of their estate. His bedroom overlooked the gardens, and he always used to find comfort in getting lost in the mazes and his thoughts, but he knew those times had left him. His thoughts tormented him now, and no amount of wandering around nature would help that.

Draco heard his fireplace roar into life as someone Flooed into his room, but he chose to ignore it. He could count on one hand the amount of people that could get into his personal Floo and his instincts said that it wasn't his mother. He heard the footsteps behind him but he still didn't talk. His guest would speak soon enough.

“Your mother is worried about you, Draco."

The blonde narrowed his gaze at nothing in particular. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture on his behaviour, but at least his mother had gotten Blaise to do it rather than storm in here herself. Draco pulled his hand through his hair and then turned to his friend, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow.

“I'm sorry about your dad.” Blaise said quietly. “Do you want to talk about it?

“Do you think I want to bloody talk about it?” Draco snarled, glaring at his friend. “Does it look like I'm just waiting here for someone to come to me so I start bawling like a baby? Piss off Zabini!” Draco snapped, turning his back to his friend, casting his heated glare out towards the gardens again.

“You should tell the Aurors what you know, Draco. It'll help them catch the bastards that done this. Just talk to someone, Malfoy.” Blaise said, but Draco ignored his words. He clenched his jaw so tightly that it started to ache and his knuckles turned white from being in fists.

“I'm telling Potter nothing, and that Muggle-born bitch wouldn't be able to catch a ball if it was handed to her, let alone catch the bastard. He'd tear her in two before she even knew that she'd found him.” Draco snarled, surprised by the brief moment of painful rejection at the idea of Greyback killing Granger. It was hard to think of someone like Greyback killing the brilliant witch when someone like Voldemort had failed.

“Are you worried about them?"

Draco scoffed, flashing a cold look over his shoulder. “Worried? About Gryffindor's Golden-Trio. Now you're just insulting me, Zabini.” Draco muttered, turning away. “Just piss off. I want to be alone.” Draco waited, but Blaise made no movement and after a moment Draco gave in to his anger again. He spun towards Blaise, his wand out and aimed at his friend. “Get the hell out, Blaise!” He shouted, only lowering his wand when Blaise sighed and had a fistful of Floo powder.

Draco watched the fireplace as the green flames died. Sighing he collapsed onto his bed, flicking his wand to draw the thick drapes by the French doors, but leaving the doors themselves open to fill the room with early morning bird song and a cold air.

His owl was on the desk in the morning, delivering the daily prophet. Draco glowered at the bird and rolled off his bed to grab the paper. The front cover showed him all he needed to see, but he read the article regardless. The photo on the cover was one of the scene that he'd left behind and Draco tasted the bile at the back of his throat. His father's body was covered up, but it was the shimmering pool of rusty blood that he watched. There was splashes of the crimson liquid all over the scene in the cave, and it made him shudder. He could still hear the screaming as he'd left his flesh and blood behind to suffer. It should have been him. They should have left that cave together or died side by side. But no, he'd ran like a coward, falling into the unintentional embrace of his once-enemy as he gave in.

Draco scanned the article, reading it with a suffocating silence that threatened to cripple him. His eyes scanned the words as he read it, and re-read it. His brain was desperately trying to reject the information scrawled in front of him, but he couldn't. He stumbled back a step, his glance unfocused as the paper slipped from his grasp and landed on the plush carpet. Draco heaved once, and then moved to his en-suite on numb legs. He grasped the sides of the sink, his body shaking violently before he then dropped to his knees and vomited into the toilet.

There was nothing in his stomach to bring up, but his body shuddered and heaved violently for an unknown length of time. His throat was burning and tears fell from his eyes without any control. Draco stumbled to his feet after a while, flushing the toilet and running the cold tap of his sink to splash the icy water over his face. His mind could only focus on those words, the image that they had painted in his tortured brain.

… _body left torn apart..._

… _head separated and pinned to the opposite wall..._

… _Dark Arts lingering in the air..._

“Draco?” A voice called to him from his bedroom but the blonde just sunk to his knees, a strangled sob forcing its way from his throat as his dropped his face into shaking hands. Footsteps that grew louder, two sets. A hand on his arm that he didn't have the energy to push off. Someone was talking to him, but he couldn't focus on the words. He couldn't even tell if the voice was male or female.

Draco only reacted when he was lifted from the floor. He struggled with the arms that held him up, lashing out and not caring when his elbow struck flesh as he was released after the impact. He spun round, glaring daggers at Blaise who clutched his bleeding nose and noticed a wide-eyed Pansy by the doorway. He stormed out of the bathroom and grabbed his wand, firing an _Incendio_ at the offending paper lying on his bedroom floor.

“Draco?” The timid voice only angered him more and he spun round, aiming his wand at Pansy who instantly took a step back. He could tell that she was frightened, but he didn't care. How dare they just barge in here! “We came as soon as we got _The Prophet._ Draco, I'm so sorry."  
  
“Shut up!” Draco hissed, staring at her. He hated the girl in that instant, he hated them both. “Don't you fucking dare! You're sorry? YOU'RE FUCKING SORRY!” He screamed it at her, ignoring Blaise as he pulled the girl closer to him protectively. “They tore him apart! Greyback literally tore my father to pieces because I left him there, I left him to die. So don't you fucking dare barge in here and tell me that you're bloody sorry. Get out. Both of you get the hell out!”

“Draco, stop shouting. We're here to help you.” Blaise said calmly, moving in front of Pansy slightly in order to protect the girl from Draco's outburst.

“GET OUT!” Draco shouted, firing a hex that knocked Blaise back slightly. Pansy grabbed her boyfriend's hand and pulled him towards the fireplace as Draco watched them. They left without a word, and Draco glared at the fireplace for a moment of silence before firing a _Confringo_ hex at the damn thing, scowling as he watched it explode and then rain rubble. He cast a silencing charm on his room and then screamed until he felt like his throat would tear, paying no attention to the burning smell to the air or the scorch marks littering his room as the dust settled from his exploded fireplace.

 


End file.
